My friend Patty has a new blog, and after you get over the blinding envy about how creative she is with her kids, I bet you’ll love her. She’s a naturalist and is blogging mainly about her family’s adventures in the natural world, and is full of ideas about how to give kids more time in the wild (eighteen things to do with rocks, for example). Even better, she is not above lying to her daughter about a duck.
This weekend A (along with a big crew of other friends & family) spent a day and a half helping some friends re-roof part of their house. I spent a chunk of Saturday at the girls’ co-op day care center as part of a big volunteer crew doing a hairy and long-overdue project: remove twelve years’ worth of old wood chips from playground and haul away; haul in new wood chips to replace them. All this cooperative activity and manual labor has left me feeling like the commune-dweller I believe I really ought to be: useful, suitably tired, and tied to all kinds of good people.
The two bad things that happened this weekend are (a) On Saturday, by accident, I brushed my teeth with an old toothbrush that I believe had been used to clean the toilet and (b) While shoveling those wood chips, I hit my funny bone on a post so hard that I almost passed out from the pain, and then almost threw up.
All of this is more than balanced out by the pure awesomeness of the salad I made tonight: grated raw beets with vinaigrette; salad greens; hard boiled eggs; fennel; bleu cheese; orange wedges; carrots. Mmmm. I am beginning to think the raw food movement is onto something, purely because of the ease of preparation. That would nix the eggs, wouldn’t it? And the cheese. Darn.
In sum, my advice for a happy week: Watch your elbows. Work together. Look at the toothbrush before you use it, no matter how early in the morning it is. And go see Patty. Oh, and don’t bother cooking your food unless it’s eggs.